Addiction
by SereneCalamity
Summary: Everyone has something that's almost impossible to let go of. Dotty. OneShot.


_Okay, so I just want to start with the fact that I do have some requests from you guys, and I am working on them! I promise! This just happened, and so if it seems all rushed and little strange, I'm sorry. I wrote it in about half an hour. I'm posting what I have now, because I'm just starting a new job, so I'm not sure how much I'm going to be able to write anymore :( I will as much as I can though, and I hope you guys stick with me._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the characters._

He knew what they were doing was wrong.

But he just couldn't give her up.

She was an addiction that he just couldn't go without.

Dominic Toretto looked up from the car he was working on, across the garage to where Leticia Ortiz was bent over the bonnet of another car, talking quietly to Jesse Lomas. The kid said something to her and she let out a laugh before standing up and stretching, her shirt riding up and giving him a glimpse of the tanned skin underneath. He quickly averted his eyes, trying to keep his thoughts clean as she walked over slowly.

"Yo, boss!" She called. "Algood if I take my lunch?" He nodded, not looking up. He heard her footsteps retreating and the slam of her car door. A moment later, her engine started and she was backing down the driveway. Vince Martin glanced over at the three other boys in the garage and laughed.

"What's the bet that girl is going home for a quickie?"

"When Joel was over the other night, he was saying she's like a nympho. Three or four times a night," Jesse grinned as he put his cigarette back in his mouth. "Who woulda thought?" Dom's hands clenched as he tried to ignore the conversation between the boys. They weren't trying to frustrate him, it was typical guy talk, but right now, all he wanted to do was rip the engine out of the car and throw it at them. His phone began buzzing and he pulled it out of his pocket, glad for a distraction from the present conversation.

It was her.

* * *

Anything was not enough, but far too much.

No matter where she touched him, it filtered to every single one of his senses.

She made him loose all concentration and desperate for more.

They hadn't meant to start anything. It had been a hot afternoon in the garage and the boys had gone home early, all for different reasons. Letty had been groaning about the heat and ripped her shirt over her head, throwing it to the ground and working in just her sports bra covering her torso. Dom hadn't paid much attention at first, but when she pulled the overalls off so she was there in just mini shorts and a sports bra, he couldn't help but steal glances. They had finished everything up and gone into the office, pulling beers out of the mini fridge and sitting on the desk, drinking the cold alcohol and talking about the day. She had finished her drink first, and made fun of him for not being a 'real man'. Dom had said she just didn't have a 'real man' in her life, so she wouldn't know what one would look like if it punched her in the face. Letty had shot him a warning look, knowing his dislike of her boyfriend.

He wasn't sure how they got off that topic and ended up laying over the desk, his tongue in her mouth and her hands down his pants, but it happened. It happened, and then it kept happening. Every time it was over, Letty would get this guilty look on her face, and he knew that she was thinking about Joel Marin, her boyfriend. He hated seeing the trapped expression, and would swear to himself that it was the last time they would do this.

But it never was.

Working with her was almost unbearable—having her so close but not being able to reach out and touch her. They would steal kisses in the office, behind the garage, underneath a car, but it was never enough. He always needed more. When his house was empty, she would fall onto the couch, or his bed, and then her smell would linger long after she had left, reminding him of everything they had just done. He could never get her out of his head, and the longer they kept it up, the deeper he got. The harder it was to keep up the charade, and the riskier it became to keep seeing each other. Sometimes when their eyes met across the room, it felt like there was no one else there, and he could _feel _the heat from her eyes rushing over his body, and he thought it was a miracle that no one else noticed.

But then _he_ would show up, wrap an arm around her possessively, drag her next to him and kiss those lips that had been on his own only hours earlier. Dom would have to drop his eyes, swallow hard, and act like nothing was bothering him when his friends asked. He would have to pretend that everything was fine, and that he was interested in the nameless bimbos that rubbed up against his arm.

Early hours of Sunday morning would come, and he would hear her feet on the wooden floors outside his door. No matter how much he had had to drink, he would be wide awake, waiting for her. They would speak in hushed tones, their moans and sighs muffled as they twisted underneath the sheets. She would never stay long after, grabbing her clothes and disappearing quickly. She always said that she needed to get back before Joel woke up, but he was pretty sure that there was more to it. The one time after they had sex that she had stayed with him, he had woken with his arms around her and her head nestled into his neck.

It was the first time waking up with a girl had ever felt _right_ and he was pretty sure she felt it too. He had run his hand up and down her back, pressing a kiss to her forehead when she finally opened her eyes. The expressions on their faces weren't of lust as they had stared at each other, and he knew that it had scared her.

Throughout the week he would drive to her place, park a few houses down and wait for her to sneak out. Sometimes he would be waiting hours, and it pained him to think about what was going on inside. Was she kissing Joel at the very moment he was there outside? Was she sleeping with him, touching him, caressing places that she did to him? He had to put the thoughts out of his head, knowing that they would only drive him crazy and make him feel sick. He had to tell himself that nothing could ever become of what they had, that it was only sex—amazing sex—between two friends. She was with Joel, and she would stay with Joel.

Having sex with Letty in his car was one of the most exhilarating things to do. She was probably the only girl in the world who understood his love of cars, and felt the same way. Sometimes they would drive out to the desert, his foot pushing down hard on the accelerator, and he would see the flash in her eyes as they felt the engine growling under the bonnet. The speed, the adrenaline rush, turned her on. He would be driving and she would lean across the centre console, kissing his neck, her tongue flicking over his ear. And then her fingers would be working away at his belt, undoing his zipper, and that mouth that did things that made him take far too many cold showers would drop into his lap. He would pull over eventually, sometimes in a private area, although on other occasions he needed her right then and there, and they both just hoped that no one would be driving down that road at this time of the morning.

They stole every moment they could. The lunch breaks where the boys would go down to the diner. The nights that everyone was so drunk they passed out. The twenty minutes in the morning, when Letty stayed over and everyone was still asleep. She would come out to the garage at the house with two beers in hand, telling everyone she wanted to 'check up' on him, while he was working on his father Dodge Challenger. He had hitched up her skirt and bent her over the bonnet, and it was indescribable just how sexy she looked.

He knew it was dangerous.

He knew it was only a matter of time.

He knew that they were going to get burnt.

The first sign of problems was a split upper lip. Letty played it off, as though she had fallen, but when he got her alone, she had been tense, pushing him away and saying that she didn't feel well. The black eye that followed had Dom's stomach turning every which way. He tried to talk to her, but she made excuses. There were no more injuries after that, but he only got her alone one last time. As their naked bodies moved together in his room, he knew that something was different. Everything was slower, harder, more passionate. And when she left, her kiss was deep, her lips lingering for several moments longer.

Dom knew she was saying goodbye.

Months would go by and the only contact he would have with Letty would be when he saw her at work, and she would always keep her distance. Their conversations were short, tense, and if their hands brushed, they would both pull back awkwardly. He tried to tell her how he felt, but she had just given him a pained look. He moved on, finding a girl that knew cars, got on with his family. He loved her. After a while, Letty and Joel moved, ending up somewhere in San Francisco. It made it easier, not seeing her, not having to remember their time together.

But every now and then, he would get a phone call—always late at night, long after any sane person would be asleep. They would never say a word, just listen to each others breathing. Then he would hear her make a funny noise—like she was trying not to cry, or a sharp intake of breath and then the dial tone would fill his ear.

She was the only drug he had ever tried.

The only high that matched being behind the wheel.

His one addiction.

_Sorry if it was rough._

_Hope you guys liked it, let me know :)_


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